


With You

by Boogum



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, ladrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boogum/pseuds/Boogum
Summary: "Can we stay like this a little longer?"Or, in which Ladybug and Adrien share a small moment on a rooftop.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	With You

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually a one-shot i wrote for fictober 2019 (and posted in the _course of love_ collection, but i'm trying to break that up a little for my own sanity and this one works better as its own story.)
> 
> Also, I'm going to be _that person_ and recommend you listen to Ludovico Einaudi's song 'Farewell to the Past' while reading, as that's what I listened to while writing this one and it will definitely help set the mood.
> 
> Day 7: "No, and that's final."

_"No, and that's final."_

The words reverberate in Adrien's head, ice-steel like his father's tone. Another denial. Another shutdown to what had seemed like a simple request. All he wants is to spend time with his friends, to have some kind of human contact, but all his father gives him are crossed out spots on a schedule and endless nights of isolation.

So Adrien runs. He suits up as Chat Noir and vents his frustration to the rooftops of Paris, to the empty streets and the heavy rain that pours from an inky sky. He runs and runs and runs until even the suit and all of its magical enhancements can't stop his chest from heaving. Until his feet stumble and he slumps like some broken thing onto the wet footpath, small and huddled.

He's cold. Paris is bitter in winter and has no warmth to offer tonight. His tears are the only thing that burn. His throat is raw and choked by all the emotions tearing at his chest. It hurts to breathe, to think.

It hurts to be alone.

"Detransform me," he whispers.

Black leather slips away in sparks of green, releasing Plagg from the miraculous. Adrien hugs his knees tight. Goosebumps prickle all over his exposed skin. He's drenched to the bone and the rain keeps falling.

"Kid," Plagg says. "Come on, you can't stay out here."

Adrien shivers and his fingers dig deeper into his knees.

"There's nothing even on this street," Plagg continues. "Worse, there's no delicious camembert, so how about you transform again and we can go back to your room and—erp."

The muffled yelp is odd enough for Adrien to raise his head. Plagg has vanished, but moving toward him is a shadowed figure, sheltering under an umbrella, who glints in red and black with the glowing snatches of streetlights.

Ladybug. It has to be her.

"Hey!" she calls. "Are you okay?"

He's too stunned to move, too stunned to speak. She stops in front of him, holding the umbrella out to cover him, and a gasp escapes her.

"Adrien?"

Suddenly, she's on her knees, umbrella forgotten, and checking him over for injuries. Her voice is full of concern as she asks what happened, what he's doing out here, and a million other things.

"I'm okay," he says, though the words feel like lead on his tongue. "I just … I just went for a walk."

"In this weather?"

He shrugs. "You're out."

"That's different. I'm a superhero and you're"—she takes in his shivers and sodden clothes—"you're freezing. Oh my gosh, we need to get you out of this rain and …"

She hauls him up before he can protest, fussing over him like some clucking mother hen. The umbrella is secured to a holster on her back, and then her arm is tight around his waist and his body is pressed against hers. It's a shock of warmth, a shock of contact that speaks to the touch-starved part of him.

"Hold on tight," she says.

He blinks, cheeks heating despite the chill that's taken root in his body. Then they're soaring, rain pelting down heavier and heavier. It's hardly pleasant, but her smile is warm and reassuring. It eases all the choking tangles in his throat, his chest, his heart.

It helps him breathe.

He holds her tighter, tucking his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder. "Can we …"

"Huh? Did you say something, Adrien?"

"Can we stay like this a little longer?"

She almost loses her grip on him and the yoyo. "What do you mean?"

"I … I'm not ready to go home," he says, unable to stop the words from slipping out. "I just … can we?"

The arm she has looped around his waist holds him a little closer. "It's raining pretty hard. You'll get sick if you stay out here."

He winces. "You're right. I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask. I mean you don't even know me and—"

"But I might have an idea."

He blinks and raises his head from the little nook. A smile curves her lips.

"Hang on," she says, and swings them off in a different direction.

oOo

She leaves him sheltering under a rooftop veranda so she can get the "supplies" she says they'll need. When she returns, she has a pink backpack full of towels and blankets, two cups, and a thermos flask filled with hot chocolate.

They both towel themselves dry as much as they can before huddling together under the blankets. The warmth is like sinking into a bath. He makes a contented little sound, only to freeze when her shoulder and thigh press against his. She's so close. Everything in him flutters and stirs. This is the girl he loves. He shoots her a glance under his lashes, wonders if he dares to move closer, but shyness holds him back.

It's not like he's Chat Noir right now.

"Here," she says, filling him a cup of hot chocolate.

He accepts the cup, fingers brushing against hers. "Thanks."

Her head tilts and she touches his wet hair, which is a total mess and falling all in his eyes. His heartbeat quickens.

"What?" he says.

There's something about her expression that makes his mouth dry and his pulse stutter.

"N-nothing," she says, giving a small laugh and pulling her fingers away from his hair. "You just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter." She bumps her shoulder against his. "Anyway, drink up before it gets cold. This'll warm you right up."

He still waits for her to fill her own cup. It's only good manners. They share a shy smile and tap their cups together in hushed cheers. The hot chocolate is rich and fills him with warmth, just as promised. Even his toes feel a little toastier.

He relaxes more, cradling the cup in his hands.

"Look," Ladybug says, and points up at the sky. "Stars."

A few have dared to peep out. The rain is softening, the night quietening.

She leans against him and tugs the blanket around them more. Pink dusts his cheeks, but the feeling that fills him is more gratitude than passion.

"Thank you for doing this," he says softly.

"Any time."

It sounds like a promise. He really hopes she means it.


End file.
